


I think I've seen this film before (and I didn't like the ending)

by threefundamentaltruths



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/F, F/M, Heartbreak, POV Third Person, Role Reversal, That Scene - The Reprise, That Scene - you all know the one, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28955562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threefundamentaltruths/pseuds/threefundamentaltruths
Summary: "It’s like a car wreck, impossible to look away from, even as Eloise wishes she were anywhere but here.She never, ever wanted it to be like this."Wherein Colin gets his heart broken.
Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton & Colin Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton & Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton/Marina Thompson, Penelope Featherington/Original Male Character
Comments: 53
Kudos: 263





	1. eloise, the ending

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Taylor Swift and Bon Iver's "Exile."
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [your3fundamentaltruths](https://your3fundamentaltruths.tumblr.com)

“I’m home,” Penelope calls, clearly having spotted her overnight bag in the entryway. “Welcome back!”

Eloise swivels toward her, practically throwing herself into Penelope’s arms. “I missed you! Happy birthday, Pen.” She loves Paris, but she really has missed her best friend.

“It’s so good to have you back, even if only for the weekend.”

She just looks at Penelope then, chewing her lip anxiously, before blurting out, “Just wanted to give you a heads-up that Colin came back as well and –”

Penelope rolls her eyes. “Unnecessary. I’m fine. In fact, I’m sure you’ll be thrilled to know I’m finally over him.”

She sucks in a breath. “But Pen –”

“No buts. Colin is my friend. Just my friend. I no longer see him any differently than any other –”

“Pen,” she cuts in, “are you sure? You’re not, you know, just telling me what you think I want to hear?” _Please, please, please, please,_ please.

“I’m not. I really am done pining over your brother.” Penelope exhales. “In fact, I’ve been seeing someone. You’ll be meeting him tonight at drinks. It’s –” A soft, shy look comes over her face. She looks happy. She looks like she’s in _love._

And Eloise could scream. She should be happy for Penelope. She wishes desperately she _could_ be happy for her.

“It’s been going really well and . . . well, we’re pretty serious.” Then Penelope frowns in concern.

Her consternation must show on her face.

“What’s the matter, El? Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

\---

When her third brother drops in to see her during her graduate school term abroad as a stopover on his own travels, they have a grand old time, like they haven’t in years.

Colin was her favorite brother once, but they grew up and grew apart, in no small part due to the fact that her best friend fell in love with him.

(Well, that and the fact that Eloise really does have more in common with Benedict. The Penelope thing probably only accelerated the trend.)

For years – _forever_ , it sometimes feels like, she’s resented her brother for his inability to see everything that Penelope is and Penelope for her inability to get over him. She’s always hated having this one thing hanging over a friendship that is otherwise perfect, with a friend who’s more a sister than her own blood.

(And secretly, Eloise has always been more than a little bit afraid of what might happen if Colin did get his head out of his ass.

If he loved Pen back, then, surely, they’d get together and there’d always be the chance that it would all go sideways and Eloise would lose her best friend. Or that it wouldn’t go sideways and she’d lose her best friend anyway because Pen would no longer have time for her.)

But then Eloise, Colin, and Eloise’s current roommate (and sort-of girlfriend) Marina get drunk on absinthe together one especially lovely Parisian evening.

It’s all very nice and relaxed, sitting at an outdoor café lingering over their drinks and, for Eloise, the occasional cigarette.

At one point, Colin asks about Penelope and how she’s doing. “I haven’t heard from her in ages, you know,” he complains.

“Maybe she’s finally gotten over you,” Eloise retorts. She can’t help herself. _One can only hope._

Colin looks at her like she’s just sucker-punched him.

“Do you like her?” Marina, not quite knowing the minefield she’s stepping into, asks baldly. She’s friendly with Penelope, too, and, unlike Eloise, doesn’t have the same competing self-interest tied into this particular question. 

“Of course,” Colin says instantly.

“No. _Like_ her, like her,” Marina clarifies.

“How old are we again?” Eloise mutters.

Marina is unfazed. “Like in a _Miss Congeniality_ you think she’s gorgeous, want to kiss her, want to love her kind of way.”

Her brother turns a deeper shade of red than she’d previously thought humanly possible. “I – I –”

“I’m just saying, you looked _really_ upset when El raised the possibility that Pen might have gotten over you,” Marina points out matter-of-factly.

Colin opens his mouth again, but no words come out.

It’s the first time Eloise can ever remember her brother being at a loss for words.

They sit there in an uncomfortably long silence – mostly because every time she tries to break it, Marina kicks her in the shins beneath the table – until Colin’s eyes go very wide.

“No,” he says slowly. “No, I don’t like her. I – I . . .”

“You love her,” Marina finishes for him when he seems to be incapable of completing the thought.

Colin nods and then he smiles and Eloise realizes that it’s been ages since she’s seen her brother smile quite like that – that brilliant smile of his that makes everyone want to smile back, the one that’s always reminded her of their father. “I do.”

He’s smiling like everything’s finally clicked into place, soft and yet so bright it hurts her heart in a good way, and suddenly her fears just don’t seem as important anymore.

“El,” says Marina casually, “weren’t you thinking of going home for Pen’s birthday?”

She squeezes Marina’s hand under the table in gratitude and wonders why she hasn’t locked her down yet.

But then Marina looks at her like she knows exactly what she’s thinking and smiles and it’s enough for now.

\---

_Give it time, Eloise. Be gentle. Don’t push too hard. Be patient. Don’t push._

She adores her mother and she knows the advice is exactly what an impatient, pushy person like her sometimes needs to hear, but she _hates_ it.

She’s always hated feeling powerless.

She couldn’t make her brother love Penelope and she couldn’t make Penelope stop loving him and she always _hated_ that. One or the other would’ve made things so much easier for all of them.

Now both things have come to pass and she couldn’t feel more wretched if she tried.

(And Marina – oh, Marina will feel wretched, too, when she tells her. She’ll wish she’d never interfered and Eloise simply won’t have it in her to offer a comforting pat on the arm, a _you meant well, you couldn’t have known_.)

She never meant for it to go like this.

She knows her brother would like nothing better than to slink away, to go lick his wounds in private, for Penelope never to realize he’s heard every single word. But she can’t make herself look away from him, transfixed by the tragic tableau he makes just then.

(And how horribly, horribly, _horribly_ this moment mirrors another the three of them have made an unspoken pact not to remember.)

Unfortunately, Pen has always been observant.

It takes less than a split second for Penelope to realize that Eloise isn’t actually looking at her, that she’s looking just past her, that she doesn’t look satisfied so much as horrified, and to turn to see what, precisely, has Eloise so riveted.

And so, Penelope sees everything: the box of chocolates spilled across the carpet, the flowers hanging limply from Colin’s hand, the complete _heartbreak_ in his eyes.

“Colin – I –” Penelope is tongue-tied in a way Eloise hasn’t heard in years, not even around Colin himself. “Hi! I – I didn’t – I didn’t know you were there,” she finally manages lamely.

“Obviously not,” Colin says quietly, the words lacking an edge.

“I’m so glad you found those,” Eloise interrupts awkwardly, thinking on her feet. “The hydrangeas,” she says, when Colin and Penelope both look at her as if she’s gone daft. “Thanks for bringing them,” she adds too-heartily. “I wanted them for your birthday and sent him looking,” she tells Penelope. “And we picked up the chocolates on the way to the train . . .” She trails off uncomfortably.

They all know she’s lying, but everyone plays along all the same.

Colin swallows painfully before speaking. “Well, unfortunately, I’ve ruined the chocolates, but the flowers are intact.” He thrusts them at Penelope. “Happy birthday, Pen.”

“Thank you,” Penelope whispers.

Colin tries to smile, but he can’t quite carry it off. “I should – I’ve got to go.”

“Plans with Ben,” she says airily to Penelope. “Give him a hug from me, won’t you, Colin?”

He nods tightly and walks past them both.

But just when Colin’s got his hand around the doorknob, Penelope says his name very softly.

It’s like a car wreck, impossible to look away from, even as Eloise wishes she were anywhere but here.

She never, ever wanted it to be like this.

Colin turns his head, ever so slowly.

Penelope’s wringing her hands, eyes filled with guilt. “Colin,” she says again. “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Penelope,” he says hollowly before showing himself out.

\---

As soon as Colin closes the door behind him, Penelope silently grabs the good gin, pours herself two fingers, and finishes the drink in one gulp before pouring herself another.

Eloise doesn’t bother pointing out that it’s not quite noon. Instead, she says, “Hit me.”

Alcohol and the obliterating effects thereof are quite possibly the only thing that’ll make this morning’s horrid little scene survivable for all involved.

She’ll have to text Benedict and make sure her brothers actually _make_ those plans she made up, so Colin doesn’t pickle himself alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Colin was her favorite brother once” is a call-back to the fact that he’s Eloise’s favorite in the books and I felt some type of way about it being changed for the show, as much as I eventually liked the Eloise and Benedict bonding.


	2. eloise, after the ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s probably something poetic and karmic about the fact that the shoe is on the other foot now, in a way that Eloise might appreciate very much if this were a novel that she was reading rather than her brother just having had his heart shattered right in front of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continues directly after the end of the previous part.
> 
> Arose from a prompt on Tumblr: "For the mini-fic challenge (if you're still doing it): "E. Sharing a drink", any character you want :)"

There’s probably something poetic and karmic about the fact that the shoe is on the other foot now, in a way that Eloise might appreciate very much if this were a novel that she was reading rather than her brother just having had his heart shattered right in front of her. She takes a miserable sip of her gin.

“I hate this,” Penelope whispers, contemplating her second glass. “I hate this so much, El.”

She wishes she could find it in herself to tell Penelope that it’s all right. Or at least that it will be. She knows it wouldn’t be fair to hold a grudge over this. After all, Penelope spent _years_ being in love with Colin. Eloise can’t be angry with her for having moved on.

But . . . she’s afraid she might be.

It feels disloyal and unfair and she knows it’s completely unreasonable, but she can’t help it and desperately hopes it will pass, in the same way she desperately hopes Colin’s feelings will.

She realizes now that her protective instincts have revolved around Penelope all these years not just because Pen is her best friend, but because Pen was the one hurting. Because she resented the fact that Colin’s indifference was hurting Penelope, even if he wasn’t _trying_ to hurt her and was, in fact, about as kind as one could be when thrust into the awkward position of “good friend’s unrequited love object.” (Well, except for that one time.)

God, she hates the fact that it’s taken _this_ to see how unfair she’s been to her brother.

She hopes Penelope finds it in herself to be as kind as Colin was in her position. But she suspects she doesn’t have to worry about that if Penelope’s guilt-ridden soliloquy is anything to go by.

“– Because I know, I know better than literally _anyone_ , how much this sucks. How much it hurts. Like I wish I could talk to him properly about it and –”

“Pen,” she interrupts sardonically. “You are the absolute lastperson he’s going to want to hear from right now. You know that. You avoided him for _months_ after that horrible scene outside our mother’s.”

Penelope stiffens.

They don’t talk about that incident, but if there were ever a time to talk about it, it’s now.

“He’s going to want to lick his wounds. Sleep around, probably.” That bit’s unnecessary and frankly probably rude of her, but there it is.

Penelope flinches and takes a big sip of her drink.

“You know how men are about this sort of thing. Can’t deal with their feelings, so they try to fuck them away. He’s a big boy. Give it some time and he’ll be right as rain,” Eloise lies, feeling guilty for antagonizing her best friend unnecessarily. She gulps down half her drink and turns her attention to her phone. She needs to text Benedict. 


	3. colin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d like nothing better than to disappear without a word, for Penelope never to know he was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a Tumblr prompt requesting Colin's POV.

He’d like nothing better than to disappear without a word, for Penelope never to know he was here.

But his sister stares at him so blatantly that it takes less than a split second for Penelope to realize that Eloise isn’t actually looking at her and to turn to see what, precisely, has Eloise so riveted.

Him.

And so, Penelope sees him, sees _everything_ : the box of chocolates spilled across the carpet that he dropped in his shock when he saw that look on her face that looked like _love_ , put there by someone else, someone smart enough to realize what he had in her; the flowers hanging limply from his hand.

The whole pathetic picture of the idiot who missed out.

“Colin – I –” Penelope is tongue-tied in a way he’s not heard in years. “Hi! I – I didn’t – I didn’t know you were there,” she finally manages lamely.

“Obviously not,” he says quietly, the words lacking an edge. It’s a miracle he can say anything at all.

“I’m so glad you found those,” Eloise interrupts awkwardly. “The hydrangeas,” she says, when he and Penelope both look at her as if she’s gone daft because, honestly, what the hell is she even on about. “Thanks for bringing them,” she adds too-heartily. “I wanted them for your birthday and sent him looking,” she tells Penelope. “And we picked up the chocolates on the way to the train . . .” She trails off uncomfortably.

She’s trying, he supposes. They all know she’s lying, but they play along just the same.

It’s like an out-of-body experience, as if he’s here experiencing the most hellish moment of his life and watching himself from afar at the same time.

He swallows painfully before speaking. “Well, unfortunately, I’ve ruined the chocolates, but the flowers are intact.” He thrusts them at Penelope, because what else is he going to do? “Happy birthday, Pen.”

“Thank you,” Penelope whispers.

He tries to smile, but he doesn’t think he manages it. “I should – I’ve got to go.” _Anywhere but here._

“Plans with Ben,” Eloise lies airily. “Give him a hug from me, won’t you, Colin?”

He nods tightly and walks past them both. _Just a few more seconds, a few more steps –_

But just when he’s got his hand around the doorknob, Penelope says his name very softly.

His heart stutters in his chest and he turns his head, ever so slowly.

Penelope’s wringing her hands, eyes filled with guilt. “Colin,” she says again. “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Penelope,” he says hollowly before showing himself out.

It’s true, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Doesn’t make him want to scream any less, to shake his younger self any less, to punch the nearest wall any less, to bloody _cry_ any less.

He manages to keep it together until he’s in his Uber and the driver asks if he needs a tissue.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Just in case,” the driver says knowingly, tossing the box back to him. “People cry in here all the time, man. Really.”

And that’s when he breaks, in the backseat of some random guy’s car.

(If he hurt Penelope even half so much when they were younger, he deserves every bit of this, but that thought only makes it worse.)

\---

Because he didn’t know where else to go, he went with Eloise’s lie.

Somehow, Benedict is sitting on the steps waiting for him when his Uber pulls up. When he emerges from the car, his older brother takes one look at him and throws his arms around him, hugs tighter than even their mother would. _Fucking hell, Colin. I’m so sorry._

He’s grateful Ben doesn’t lie to him, doesn’t say _it will be okay_ like he’s a kid sobbing over a scraped knee because right now he doesn’t know that it ever will be.


End file.
